


Tales from Acoroma

by Totally_not_a_Weeb



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 02:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17275532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_not_a_Weeb/pseuds/Totally_not_a_Weeb
Summary: A Series of Drabbles requested from Tumblr in my fantasy world, Acoroma. Drabble Prompt at the start of each chapter. Some of these are canon some are non-canon





	1. Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is canon

Edward would be lying if he said that he wasn't bitter. In fact, he was very, very, very bitter about his situation.

 

If he looked through his mind's eye, he could see his beloved, King Ywain the Strong, looking with love in his eyes as the two of them finally married with all of the pomp of an Imperial Triumph, the both of them would be husband and husband.

 

But the second he stopped looking through that eye. The reality closed in upon Edward, the man whose only crime was a crime of passion, he was alone, Ywain was in the ground and dead, Constance was dead, Helias the Younger was dead, soon he'd be dead, if the Architect had a sense of mercy.

 

He was alone, without the sun in his life. Alone with only his money to serve as company to his wounded and black heart. The Lord of Sparrow's Reach, Edward formerly of the Most Ancient House of Bronzewing, the Treacherous.

 

He was bitter at the world for such injustice, at the Architect for such a cruel design and most importantly, at himself, for allowing himself to let his love overcome his sense of rational judgement. The view from Sparrow's Reach offered a good view of the Golden Plains, but that did little to warm his long dead heart, devoid of love and devoid of anything other than pure bitterness. The finest wines from the Princely Confederation did little to fill the void left in that shrivelled black excuse for an organ.

 

Edward laughed at himself, he was fifty years old and still holding onto a twenty-year-old romance.


	2. Kill Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is non-canon as fuck

Alexander was standing in front of Robyn in the Royal Library, she had to be the Witch Queen, she was laughing at him for hours now, the way she mocked the King and him, how she had obviously charmed the entirety of the Royal Court into believing that she was innocent. 

 

There was only one thing that he could do. He had a dagger on hand, and she was unarmoured, he could nip this problem in the bud.

 

“Is that a dagger in your hand?” She asked, “Are you trying to assassinate me?” she gave a small tutting sound “You hav-”

 

Alexander ran at her with the dagger in both hands, the blade piercing her strange clothes and sinking into her abdomen, Alexander felt the warm blood stain his hands and her black tunic.

 

To his surprise, Robyn gave a laugh, “We all die, you either kill yourself or get killed.” She got out and coughed up her life essence onto Alexander’s hair. Eventually, she went limp in his arms, and he removed the dagger.

 

Alexander felt … off, he was a paladin of light, he should feel good about killing a woman as evil as the Evil as the Witch Queen, especially considering how she had come to life. He had killed people before, but that was in the heat of battle, and those were people he didn’t know the names of, he knew that this Robyn was evil and irritating, but he still felt … bad about killing her.

 

Like she wasn’t the Witch Queen, like she was an innocent. He wasn’t sure what to think anymore.


	3. Nurse Me

The air around Summermount was filled with smoke and blood. The war was over, the Witch Queen was slain, but for Helias that was only the beginning of his problems, he had to rule the Kingdom afterwards. Summermount was levelled as a result of the battle. With a few burnt out buildings standing as a reminder that the city of those who could've breathed life into stone existed.

 

He was in the healer's tents, helping the healers with the wounded, it was messy work, but he was okay with it, it made a nice change to save a life for once. The King was still dressed in his dirty and blood-covered battle armour.

 

He focused on that one soldier who saved his life at the battle, a man-at-arms, he was burnt by some of the Witch Queen's fire, and he was lucky enough to survive, some of them didn't have the fortune of having remains to bury. 

 

As he was unconscious, it was clear that something was wrong because he was tossing and turning in his sleep. Most of the man-at-arm's armour, such as the chainmail and the surcoat was removed due to the fact that it was melted in some places. Leaving the soldier laying there in his trousers.

 

Helias laid his hands upon the man's burnt skin and focused heavily on the wound, on the cracked and charred skin and imposed his will upon it. He willed the flesh to heal, the flesh knitted together before his eyes.

 

Burnt skin fell off, and regular skin took its place, sections where other wounds had split the skin were healed as the magic forced the skin together.

 

The whole visual reminded Helias of a snake shedding his skin.  Helias was forced to stop healing the man due to the strain that the magic put on him and let one of the healers take over, who treated the man's torso.

 

Eventually, the man returned to consciousness, during that time, Helias spent it helping some of the other wounded soldiers, including some of the Legionaries.

 

"Your Majesty." The soldier said, coughing heavily, his throat sounded dry.  "You're alive, but so am I." Helias got a better look at him, aside from the smooth and clean skin on the left side of his face, he looked like a typical hardened soldier, his light brown hair was closely cut, his skin was heavily tanned with dirt on the right side of his face. The eyes of the soldier were a vibrant hazel colour.

 

Helias sat down on a chair next to the basic field cot that the man-at-arms was being laid in. "Yes, you took a nasty burn to your face, I had to heal you."

 

"You should've." He said before breaking into a coughing fit

 

"But I did, you saved my life. And there is only one way I can repay that debt." Helias said, leaning towards the man "Tell me your name."

 

"Sylas, your Majesty." the soldier, Sylas, responded, confusion evident in both his voice and his face.

 

"I would give you a knighthood in the Order of Royal Knights." Helias responded

**Author's Note:**

> Add another drabble at Unwriter-sc.tumblr.com


End file.
